


Anno Salutis

by afrakaday



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrakaday/pseuds/afrakaday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrating a full year of health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anno Salutis

“Happy anniversary, Laura.”

The unexpected voice nearly caused Laura to jump out of her skin as she entered her tent. Not that jumping skin would have very far to go under the ridiculous number of layers she wore to ward off the wintry chill on this frakking planet. Bill Adama, wearing that silly mustache and surprisingly attractive civilian clothes, was sitting on her cot.

“Hello, Bill,” she said, setting down the bag containing what she had thought would be that evening’s grading and crossing the tent to stand before him as she unbuttoned her parka. “What anniversary would that be?”

He pushed the book he’d been reading aside and tugged her down into his lap. “I had to come down here,” he rumbled, “when it occurred to me that one year ago today, I was on the horn to the entire Fleet, asking them to pray for you.”

“Ohhh. My first cancerversary.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s very sweet of you to remember. And to come down here. I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

He looked slightly sheepish. “I might have mentioned the significance of the date to Saul when I realized,” he admitted. “We happened to be in CIC. Saul more or less insisted that he’d cover my shift.”

Laura quirked a smile; Saul must really approve. Of her, of _them_. It was a start. So was this unannounced visit, or if not a start, then a continuation of the slow-moving relationship they’d started three months earlier when he came down for the Founder’s Day celebration but finally seemed to have evolved into the real thing, with the full complement of physical relations that entailed. “When do you have to go back up?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

She moved to straddle him on the cot, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh good."  She rocked her hips against his. "Tonight we celebrate this august occasion, tomorrow you can walk me to school on your way back to the airfield.”

* * *

After they’d properly gotten reacquainted with one another--twice, to Bill’s _immense_ credit--Laura scrounged up some protein bars for dinner. They lit a fire in her little stove, and sat next to each other on a straw-filled cushion on the floor. She was sure they’d eventually make their way to a reclining position or even back into her cot for a third go-around, but for now she just wanted to talk.

“Bill?” she began. “We never really talked about what happened that day. A year ago.” She laughed bitterly. “A lot’s happened since then.”

Bill reached out his hand to cover her own, but stayed silent, inviting her to continue.

“I was so ready to die. You _knew_ that I was. And that I wanted the human-Cylon hybrid to die, too. And even that I distrusted Baltar.”

He nodded.

“Yet _you_ made the call to let Baltar try a completely unproven therapy using the biological material of our mortal enemy, to save me.”

He nodded again. “Laura, I--”

She interrupted him. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I am happy to have been given this second chance, a full year of health. I never thought I’d see that. And I never thought you and I would have a chance for this.” She gestured between them, then paused, thinking about baby Isis, who had thrived right alongside Laura in the past year, and wishing she could share the gratitude she felt to and for her with Bill. Bad idea; she changed the subject. “Did you really ask the _entire Fleet_ to _pray_ for me?”

A toothy grin answered first. “I did. I gave the atheists the option of keeping you in their thoughts, and asked your religious nutters to pray to the gods for you.”

“Which did you do?”

“Both.”

“Why’d you do it?” She wasn’t just referring to the avowed atheist’s uncharacteristic foray into divine supplication, and they both knew it.

He reached out and tucked a long lock of hair behind her ear before cupping the side of her face. “Because I can’t live without you.”  
  



End file.
